


Providence

by Carrogath



Series: In Sickness and in Health [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 13:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrogath/pseuds/Carrogath
Summary: They’ll provide for each other what the Goddess has not—even if that takes them longer than anticipated.





	Providence

Upon waking from a blissful, if decidedly brief, sleep in her private quarters at the monastery, Mercedes swiftly determined that this had been no ordinary slumber. For one, she was able to discern from the position of the sun outside her window that it was not sunrise, but sunset. For another, and inasmuch as she enjoyed the company that she now found with her, she usually slept alone.

Ingrid, freed from her greaves and her gauntlets and the breastplate that clung so tightly to her person, was adorned in nothing but a gauzy undershirt that did little to mask the shape of her body, or the color of her skin, and while she looked as beautiful in it as she did in anything, it was rather immodest, as articles of clothing went. Mercedes’ gaze traced the edges of garment from the base of her thighs, where it must have just barely covered her buttocks, up over the ridges of her stomach—and then looked away from her chest, demurely, upon having noticed how the coolness of the evening on her skin must have raised her nipples (pink, pert, and ever so lovely, but she felt voyeuristic for having seen them while Ingrid slept—although they were lovers now, so perhaps at least that much could be forgiven), but averting her gaze did nothing to quell the heat that now flushed across her skin, from the intimacy as well as from the distinct sense she’d had since she’d awoken that Ingrid hadn’t been beside her when she’d fallen asleep.

They’d had a very pleasant afternoon chat over tea, and then Mercedes complained of her exhaustion after returning from the battle at Arianrhod, and, despite her protests, later found herself being tucked into bed by her very considerate companion, who must have shed her clothing and crawled into bed alongside her soon afterward. She wasn’t bothered by her partner’s actions in the least—now that she’d had time to reflect on it, in fact, she preferred to sleep this way, if it were ever again possible—but she at least had to admit to feeling a little shock at the sight of it, and at the desire that licked at the edges of her conscious mind like a flame, burning away at her self-discipline and all the promises she’d sworn to herself to keep, to see the war to its end, to separate their very sudden and very spontaneous relationship from their wartime responsibilities. Since they’d admitted their feelings to each other, and since the war brought them closer and closer to the Kingdom’s capital, Ingrid’s displays of affection had gone from hardly anything at all to heated and impulsive, stealing kisses from her whenever they had a moment to themselves, eager to touch, eager to lose herself in someone and something other than the ghosts of all the soldiers they had fought and killed. Mercedes was certainly eager herself to return her new lover’s affections, but there was a time and a place for these things.

Usually.

“Ingrid.” Mercedes brushed gentle fingertips across her cheek. “Dearest, it’s time to wake up. You already missed your afternoon training.”

She sprang to life as if summoned by war horns, with such violence and ferocity that Mercedes just barely avoided being smacked by her in the face.

“Oh,” Ingrid said, embarrassment flushing her face, “what time is it?” She turned to the window. “Oh no…” She looked down at her clothing. “Oh no.” She pulled on her clothes, discarded on the floor in apparent haste, and started for the door and then turned around and looked at Mercedes, who was still sitting in her own bed observing everything that had just transpired over the last few minutes. “Mercedes,” she murmured, hushed, hesitant, in a sultry tone that sent a thrill up her spine. “I…” She looked at the door, and then at the bed, as if deciding where to go. Then she laughed, helplessly, and looked at her. “My word. What has this relationship done to me?” She checked her clothing again—not her full suit of armor, but rather her training leathers—and refastened a strap under her shoulder as if that would help how uncomfortably lost she now looked.

“Do you need help with that?”

She covered the offending strap with one hand. “Ah, no!” Then she looked down at the ground, as if something very interesting had suddenly revealed itself on the floor.

Mercedes smiled at her.

Ingrid was still quite red in the face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, to have done such a…”

“It’s all right,” Mercedes replied. “I wasn’t bothered at all. I hope we can sleep together again sometime. Your presence was very comforting.”

“O-oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. Then I will keep that in mind. For the future. Erm…”

“Surely you have other duties to which you must attend?” Mercedes pressed.

“I always do,” was Ingrid’s staunch reply. Then, “I slept so well,” she said, chuckling—her laughter was always a delight to hear— “I realize how irresponsible it is of me to admit this, but if I could, I should like to crawl back under the covers with you and sleep a few hours more.” She smiled shyly, and then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “This place brings back memories, most of them fond. I love your sweets,” she sighed, wringing her hands. “I think I could eat a whole mountain of them.”

At that, Mercedes had to giggle. “You’ll have to remind me to bake more, then.” She slid off the bed. “Now, I should check up on the wounded in the infirmary.”

Ingrid scowled. “I was told you hadn’t slept for three days after we returned from Arianrhod.”

“And today I had a very restful afternoon with you,” she replied, “so I should consider myself more than able to stay awake for the remainder of the evening.”

Ingrid opened her mouth as if to protest—and then pursed her lips, scowling.

“You should say whatever’s on your mind,” she said. “Before I start making unnecessary assumptions.”

“I love you.”

Mercedes blinked. “What brought this on, all of a sudden?”

Ingrid closed the space between them in two quick strides, by far the dominant presence in the room despite her smaller stature. “I apologize for not having asked before falling asleep beside you. That was… terribly gauche. But,” she looked down, searching for words, “but you must know, I cherish you very much. A-and it may seem overbearing, but I fret only because I care about you.” Her brow furrowed. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not so passionately, not even Glenn. It may be because I’m so young—and you, you are far more mature—but I find it increasingly difficult to leave you alone. It’s impairing my ability to make rational decisions. I worry that if we remain in this way, then we may not both make it through this war alive.”

“Oh,” said Mercedes, wilting. She could be so difficult sometimes, this one. “Please don’t fret over me so much. I can take care of myself; you know that.”

“I know, I just…” She huffed in frustration. “It’s because you always tell me that you can that I begin to worry. I feel as though I should be doing more for you. I don’t mean to in any way hinder your duties—your skills as a healer are invaluable to us—but as a person, and as my lover… I don’t know. I feel so… inadequate. That what I am doing is insufficient to express just how deeply I feel for you. I feel like I’m drowning,” she laughed. “And then I see you so composed when you’re working, and I have to wonder if I’m somehow doing something… wrong.”

“Yours is certainly the more arduous task,” said Mercedes, though she didn’t feel that way as much as she thought she should. “Taking lives is never easy.”

Ingrid smiled wryly. “Taking vows is such a mindless exercise… I mean, swearing to serve your lord and your kingdom, it doesn’t take any effort to say, or even to believe. The job of a knight is not to make the decisions of where to go, or who to kill. That’s the job of a general—of a king. And most of them will never have to. But Edelgard… She believes that we should all follow our own paths, no matter what they may be.” She looked at her. “I would never have questioned anything I’m doing, had it not been for you—for her. So it’s very novel for me, being granted the permission to question… what we’re doing. Why we’re doing it at all. She appreciates being contradicted. Most people don’t. And I’ve seen her struggle with her decisions. It’s frightening—but it’s also humanizing, to know that even the Emperor is willing to admit that she makes mistakes. She inspires the kind of loyalty in her troops that I could never imagine coming from anyone in the Kingdom. In Faerghus we just… weren’t like that.”

Mercedes nodded, motioning for her to continue.

“In the Kingdom, I don’t know whether I would have been _allowed_ to love you. We may have not been able to have this relationship at all—married off to strange men, forced to bear their children—so I suppose I’m feeling that desperation now. That this love is something I’ve sworn to defend with everything that I am. I don’t know if it’s right. I don’t know if I should… Ugh.” She wiped a stray tear from her face. “Sorry. I’ve been crying so much more often lately. I feel as though the topic has been exhausted—done to death—in literature, but I still don’t have all the answers. It’s maddening. That’s why I was so happy to have a moment with you, in which we could while the time away and doze off and do nothing. We shouldn’t have to fight to be together, but that’s exactly what’s happening.” She stepped forward, and took Mercedes’ hands in her own. “So… Just stay with me. Please.”

Mercedes laughed. “As if I had plans to go anywhere else.”

Ingrid leaned up and pressed their lips together, deepening the kiss when Mercedes opened her mouth. She couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped—not when Ingrid was suddenly so sure of what she wanted from her—and felt herself being eased back onto the bed.

They broke apart, panting. Ingrid buried her face in the crook of her neck, nipped the skin lightly there, and sighed.

“One day,” she murmured, “I’ll get to have all of you, with none of this senseless violence standing in my way.”

Mercedes swallowed.

Then Ingrid pushed herself upright, and smoothed out her leathers.

“Ingrid—”

“Yes?” She seemed to have composed herself in a heartbeat. It was unusual for her to be so quick about it, and utterly fascinating.

“Will you be off now?”

“I suppose, though I wish I didn’t have to be,” she lamented. She took a step back, and then swept her gaze over Mercedes, as if to check for injuries. “Um…” Her face colored. “A-are you… P-please forgive my shameless—”

“It’s all right, Ingrid,” she insisted. “You would have known if I was in any way troubled by your behavior.”

“O-oh.” Ingrid stared at her, dumbly. “Then that means…” She looked down, and the color in her face deepened.

“I would like to consummate our love as well,” Mercedes finally said, in the absence of a proper response. “Though now may not be the best time to discuss such things.”

“Indeed,” said Ingrid, still flushed. She bowed stiffly at the waist, as if unsure of what else she should be doing, and then turned around and headed for the doorway. Then she paused, and looked at her again. “I shall… see you tomorrow. Please, Mercedes. Wait for me until then.”

She smiled and nodded, and waited until Ingrid shut the door behind her.

Then she flopped back onto the bed, letting every feeling she had been holding back wash over her in rapid succession. Her heart pounded a furious staccato in her chest, flooding her whole body with molten heat. She had never felt so wanted by anyone in her life, and while it was by all means pleasurable to know and to feel and to experience such desire, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else for the rest of the evening in exchange. She ran a hand over her face and sighed.

“Goddess preserve me though I may have forsaken you; I don’t think I’m ready for this…”

It took her a few minutes more to compose herself, but compose herself she did, and arose to face the darkening sky outside. As usual, there was no shortage of work to be done around the monastery.

All in due time.

**Author's Note:**

> oh no my inner estranged Catholic is showing *yanks down skirts*
> 
> I wanted to write more galatritz dialogue so... I did. Please enjoy Ingrid's stammering while Mercedes tries to figure out what she's saying.
> 
> I'm @carrogath on Twitter if for some unholy reason you want to talk to me about FE3H. Be warned that I really don't like how the Agarthans were depicted.
> 
> that ex-Catholic mood though...


End file.
